


Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring

by eatmyass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Famous Liam, Famous Zayn, Florist Harry, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatmyass/pseuds/eatmyass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He flops back onto the sofa dramatically. "What do I doooo?"</p><p>Zayn looks utterly unimpressed. "Go and get the cutting maybe? Talk about flowers, tell him about that time you went to church with semen in your hair and your mum saw? I don't know." He pushes Louis off himself and the sofa.</p><p>(Louis needs a splash of colour in his flat so he pays a visit to the local flower shop where Harry happens to work. He finds himself needing flowers more and more often. Oh, and Doniya's getting married and everyone's stressed as hell.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princessnoel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessnoel/gifts).



> Between Spring and Summer - Park Ji Yoon

Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white, 

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; 

They were but sweet, but figures of delight,

Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.

 

-Sonnet 98, William Shakespeare

 

-

He's on his way back to his apartment, with a carrier bag in either hand and phone balanced between his shoulder and ear, talking to Lottie. She's telling him about something scandalous a neighbour of theirs has done but for some reason he can't help but pay more attention to all the noise in the background. The twins are all giggling and squealing while the pots and pans clang noisily in the kitchen. He wonders what their mum is making for dinner tonight and how much better it'll probably taste than having to eat Tesco's frozen meals for the fourth time this week, all alone.  

"Louis, are you even listening? She ran away with Father William's wife! That's not something that happens every day you know."

  "I'm listening! I don't blame her to be honest," he says, trying to unlock his door, despite having no free hands. He can hear their mum calling for Lottie.  

"Yeah well I gotta go now. Mum's made paella and I'm gonna go stuff my face. Bye Lou!" The call disconnects just as Louis' stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud grumble.  

He's hungry and sad and it's such a confusing combination. He wants a delicious homemade meal too but labouring over a semi-decent dinner, when there's no eager scrape of cutlery or comments about the slightly charred sides, is just not worth it. An apple should suffice for the time being, he thinks, grabbing one from a shopping bag and settling onto his sofa. There's no loud squealing or happiness in this background. Only the sound of his loud munches echoing around him, which he doesn't quite understand because the echo was meant to stop once he'd furnished the place. Yet the walls still respond, not letting him forget or get used to the silence.

He'd ignored Zayn's remarks about the blandness of his apartment and his offers to 'liven the place up a bit' before. Thing is, he absolutely loves Zayn and his artistic abilities, but he'd really rather his apartment didn't end up looking like a skate park. But right now, as he looks around at the plain white walls of his apartment, he realises he'd be rather grateful if some of his friend's graffitiesque creations were to magically appear on them. Maybe that would take away the constant feeling of unease around him.

Maybe that would mean he'd stop missing the stupid floral wallpaper in the living room, that he'd always made fun of for being granny print. Or his mother's sweet, distinctive scent that could be smelt in her hugs and in the palms of her hand. Even really specific moments, like the weekends, feel incomplete without the feeling of damp grass underneath him and a picnic basket set out in front of him. There's a few parks around here but he knows it wouldn't feel the same. Wouldn't feel the same sitting there all alone, without his sisters and mum having a laugh around him. Without Lottie's head in his lap, his fingers brushing through her hair and picking out the pretty pink petals that had fallen from the tree above.

He sighs out loud and tells himself that there's no use dwelling on these things. It'll only tighten the knot in his stomach even further and honestly, it's tight enough already.

-

Everything just becomes a bit too much though, when his mum pops by for the second time since he's moved in. She's got her own keys to the place so when he gets back from work he walks in to see her brewing herself a cup of her jasmine tea in his kitchen. The sight of her standing there, and the sweet, sweet fragrance of the tea reminds him so much of home that he just can't hold back the tears anymore.  

"Oh darling what's wrong?" she asks worriedly, pulling him into her arms. Her warm embrace just makes him sob even harder though, and it's a while before the tears start to slow down.  

Pressing kisses into his hair she asks him once again and he sniffs, "This place is just so empty."  

He doesn't know how else to explain his childish outburst, all he knows is that he's terribly embarrassed and wants his mum to solve all his problems for him. He'd perhaps be settling in a little better if his new place felt at all homely but honestly Zayn's right, it's just dull and unbearable.

"I'll tell you what Lou. First of all we need to get you some utensils. That kitchen is absolutely useless right now. Then we can start thinking about decorating. I told you while you were still moving in that this place needed a splash of colour but you never listen do you?" She ruffles his hair and he blushes. He really does need to start listening.  

"My friend from yoga, do you remember Anne who gave us all those lovely baked treats when the twins were born?" He nods, remembering vaguely. "Well she has her own little flower shop somewhere around here I think. You should pay it a visit. Get yourself a few bunches like we have back home, brighten the place up a bit you know."  

Her suggestions seem like they might be helpful and he smiles. Sometimes he really can't believe how amazing his mum is.

  "Me and the girls will come round to help as much as we can," she says, with an understanding look in her eyes. He hugs her tight.

-

His mum texts him the address once she gets home and he's surprised to find that it's right around the corner, just slightly off the main road. There are a few planters and hanging baskets arranged around the outside of the shop and it looks pleasant enough. A bell jingles above the door as he opens it and he's immediately hit by the heady scent of the countless flowers and plants. It's maybe a bit too strong but honestly so much better than the smell of drying paint and old coffee in his flat. More like their garden during Spring when the girls would insist on picking daisies to make chains, despite them all having hay fever.  

There's an elderly lady in one corner, admiring a large potted plant, but no one behind the counter and Louis is not sure what to do. He wonders how you're meant to shop for flowers. Is he just expected to choose something for himself or is it okay to ask for help? He hopes that, what with it being his mother's friend's shop, hopefully she'll be willing to help out a completely lost Louis, whether it's normal procedure or not.

"Be with you in a sec!" calls someone from somewhere underneath the counter and he really doubts that the deep, slightly flustered voice belongs to Anne.  

He looks around the shop and it's a lot less garish than he'd expected it to be. There are arrangements of every shade of every colour he could probably think of but it's all strangely soft hued and easy on the eyes. Quite pretty, he thinks.

There's a bang under the counter and his attention is brought back to the front where a boy pops out from underneath.

“Oops shit ow...’ he says, rubbing his sore head. “Hi! How can I help?” 

If he'd thought the shop was pretty then honestly he was not prepared. The unruly mop of curls and brilliant, _fuck_ dimpled smile leaves Louis completely breathless. There's an embarrassed blush on the boy's cheeks and all the blossom around him pales in comparison.

"Hi um I need flowers? Anne?" Great. He sees a cute boy and forgets how to speak. Just great.

The boy giggles a little, "Mum's away on holiday I'm afraid. Anything in particular you're looking for?"

Warmth, Louis thinks, but he can't really burden the cute florist with that now can he.

"Something to add a little colour to my place. I don't know much about flowers but our mums are friends apparently so she told me to come ask Anne for help."

The boy bites his plump bottom lip thoughtfully and Louis thinks he might pass out.

"I think I should be able to help. How much space are we dealing with?" He comes round the counter and Louis notices the small, blue flower tucked behind his right ear. He hadn't thought it was possible for the boy to get any prettier but the universe was obviously conspiring against him.

"A vase or two I guess and I have a balcony too if that's useful?" Honestly he's not sure how he's still alive and managing to answer the boy's questions.

"Oh great. Would you be interested in a potted plant as well then maybe?" he asks, walking over to the side of the shop where there are what seem to be intentionally misshapen wooden shelves on the walls, lined with clay flowerpots. The boy picks up a pot with droopy, dark orange flowers growing in it. It looks sad.

“That way it won’t be so temporary.”

Louis nods. He knows it wasn't meant like that but it makes sense. His feelings of discontent probably won’t be solved by a bunch of flowers that'll die in a few days.

"I'll pick out a few things for an indoor arrangement while you see if you like any of the growing plants." He heads towards the centre of the shop where the fresh flowers are all displayed, pulling out a long, silky ribbon from his little apron and getting to work. Louis tries to look around at the flowers but he's completely distracted by the delicate blue petals in the boy's hair and the adorable look of concentration on his face, as he gathers various leaves and flowers for Louis.

The bunch he presents is a soft mauve and peach combination, with trails of white breaking it up. It looks like a faint sunset and Louis can almost feel it on his skin.

"I know you said you wanted colour but I didn't think you'd want anything too bright," he says, gesturing towards the sunflowers at the side. "But it's a nice, warm combination I think. Of course you can change anything you want, this is just a suggestion because you said you didn't know much about flowers." He looks a little unsure now as Louis looks at the flowers and thinks. Warmth. How convenient.

"No, no it's perfect," he reassures, which seems to please the boy.

As he rings it up behind the till the old lady speaks up, "Harry dear, I'll have one of these I think," pointing at the same massive leafy plant from before.

If Louis' being perfectly honest he'd forgotten she was even in the shop, too engrossed in Harry and his wonderful flower arrangements to remember anything else. At least he has the boy's name now, he should probably thank the woman for that.

Both of them pay and the old lady looks absolutely delighted with her purchase but her smile wavers when she tries to move the pot unsuccessfully.  

"Oh no Mrs. P! Don't want you hurting your back now do we," Harry says, looking genuinely concerned and Louis wants to melt.

 Before she can attempt to pick the plant up again, Harry is around the counter, hauling the pot up by its ornate metal handles. So the boy's not only incredibly good looking, he's also rather strong and tattooed and Louis really _really_ wants to die. 

"Don't tell mum but I'm gonna close up a little early to drop Mrs. P's plants home," Harry says, as if running errands for elderly ladies is an everyday occurrence for him. He spots Mrs. P also struggling to carry the large bundle of marigolds she'd bought and looks down at his full hands helplessly.

"I'll carry the flowers," Louis offers and Harry smiles thankfully at him. Louis decides he's already rather fond of that smile.

"Thank you so much my dears," she shuffles out and he follows as Harry closes up behind them. "Harry and his friends are all so lovely. Even that Niall but don't tell him I said that. What's your name love?"

"Louis," he tells her.

"Oh French, like my marigolds!" and Louis laughs. She's like an excitable little girl and it's really quite sweet.

"If Rosie finds out that's how you really feel about her mortal enemy she might actually kill him next time he comes round."

Rosie, he finds out, is Mrs. P's grumpy old cat, who seems to harbour an intense hatred for Harry's friend Niall. He learns a lot about the old lady as she discusses everything, from her garden to her health problems on the way to her house, with Harry listening attentively the whole way. He reminds her to look after herself as they drop off the plants and turn back so that Harry can get his bike from outside the shop and then head off in roughly the same direction as him.

"Shit I just realised I closed up before you could choose a plant!"

The endearingly annoyed frown on Harry's face is too much for Louis to deal with so he forces himself to speak, "To be honest I couldn't have made a good choice if I had all day. I really don't know anything at all about plants."

"Surely something must have caught your eye though." And yeah something has, he thinks, looking at the pretty blue petals.

"The one in your hair maybe?" Louis hadn't actually meant to voice that question, but the way the soft blue petals stand out against Harry's ridiculous curls is really getting to him.

"Oh I picked this from my plant at home this morning. It's called Baby blue-eyes." It seems for a moment that he might continue but then he pauses and goes to pull the flower out of his hair.

  "You should leave it there, it looks good," Louis says, feeling his cheeks reddening with each word.

 "It'll look better on you though, goes with your eyes." He reaches over and tucks it behind Louis' ear, as if it were nothing. Louis' sure his soul has left his body.

 "In fact," Harry continues, "if you want to pop by tomorrow afternoon, I'll give you a cutting from my plant so that you can have a Baby blue-eyes of your own." It's said with such genuine enthusiasm that Louis can't help but smile in response and agree to the plant offering. 

They reach the shop and of course, of course Harry rides a bike with a vine of flowers (white primroses he learns, after a few google searches later in the day) wrapped around its handlebar. It even has a bloody wicker basket at the front, filled with more flowers that he must have picked out for himself. He rings the bell once and gives Louis a breathtaking, dimpled grin before taking off.

It's only after Harry and his bike have disappeared that Louis realises he has a reason to come back to the shop and see Harry now.

-

When he gets back home he finds Zayn settled on his sofa, eating the last of his food. He won't admit it but he appreciates not having to face his empty flat after having such an eventful afternoon.

"I'm going to die Zayn!" he exclaims but there's no reply, just the steady sound of Zayn munching away, so Louis sets the flowers down carefully and throws himself onto Zayn's lap.

"What the fuck?!"

"Why do you not care about me Javaad? Why do you want me to die?" He wriggles around and Zayn pats his head with a crumb covered hand to settle him down.

"You're always dying so I've been desensitised. What's all this about then?" he asks, pointing at the flowers.

"You were right. This place is really bland and it just got too much. Mum suggested I get some flowers to add a bit of colour," he shrugs.

"I still don't understand how such a sensible woman can birth such a stupid little shit. You just realised something we've all been telling you since you moved in." Louis' indignant cry goes unacknowledged as Zayn continues, "I think you should maybe put them in water and not leave them lying around though."

He gets up and sorts through his box of unused housewarming presents to find a vase and fill it with water. Luckily, attached to the ribbon around the bouquet is a little card with care information written on it and a packet of flower food, so he manages to not kill them just yet.

"They're actually quite nice," Zayn says from his place on the sofa, as Louis puts the vase down on the table and steps back to admire it. "Maybe your taste isn't so shit after all."

"Wasn't my taste, I didn't pick out the flowers," he explains.

Zayn raises his eyebrows and looks up at his hair, "Then how did you get a flower in your hair? It isn't even one of the ones in the bunch."

He wonders if he should tell Zayn how his heart had stuttered as Harry tucked the flower into his hair whilst talking about his eyes.

"Great florist. Lovely floral arrangements. I'm literally dead," he decides to say instead and Zayn looks confused so he elaborates. "His name was Harry and he was really _really_ cute Zayn. Prettiest smile and flowers in his hair. Said this one went with my eyes so he gave it to me, even offered me a cutting. Oh and he closed up shop to carry a heavy plant for an old lady. And they spoke about her garden and cats along the way." He flops back onto the sofa dramatically. "What do I doooo?"

Zayn looks utterly unimpressed. "Go and get the cutting maybe? Talk about flowers, tell him about that time you went to church with semen in your hair and your mum saw? I don't know." He pushes Louis off himself and the sofa.

 "Does Liam know you wet the bed?" Louis asks from where he's landed on the floor. If Zayn wants to play dirty then so can he.

 "That hasn't happened for more than a decade dick head!" he throws himself down on top of Louis and starts wrestling him.

"Why are you even here Zayn?" he shouts, as Zayn holds him in a headlock.

"Oh mum wanted me to give you your invite in person." He eases off Louis a little and pulls out a slightly crinkled card from the sofa crease. "I came here mainly to steal your food though. Mum's too busy with the preparations to pack masalas for me and Liam's still not back so I can't be bothered to cook from scratch for just one person."

Louis can't believe he'd forgotten about their Doniya _baji's_ wedding. What the actual fuck is wrong with him these days.

"Shit. When is it?" he scrambles out from underneath Zayn and opens the card. It's cream and gold and rather classy, just right for their Doniya. He feels like absolute shit.

"Chill bro. The _mehndi_ is in a month but we're not invited to that. Women only. Then the actual wedding's like a week later. You have loads of time to thread all your facial hair," he shudders. "Honestly the shit I've had to witness this past week in the name of wedding preparations."

Louis feels his pain. He once walked in on Lottie waxing her friend's pubes and hasn't ever managed to fully recover from the trauma.

"Okay so we'll go shopping tomorrow after I pop by the flower shop and get my cutting yeah."

-

He's sitting on his living room floor, papers and post-its still scattered around him and his laptop, as he enjoys a cup of tea after completing most of his work for the week. Maybe it's the excitement over Doniya getting married that's put him in such a productive mood. Or maybe it's the thought of getting to see flower boy Harry again this afternoon. Either way Louis' feeling undeniably a little more at ease than usual and it's nice to know he's getting somewhere. The flowers are sitting at the other end of the table, looking even prettier in the morning light. He can't quite piece together his thoughts and knows he needs to write them down for them to make some sense. His journal, the one he writes in for himself and not for work, has gone untouched for a while now. The last time he'd put a pen to its pages was probably somewhere around the same time Zayn had moved out and he'd moved here. He doesn't really want to think about it though. Right now all that matters is penning down the feeling of warmth a bouquet of flowers and his kind-of-older-sister's wedding is somehow managing to create in him.

He writes for a while. Writes about dimples and sunsets and Zayn and their families. Growing up together had been really rather chaotic. Between the two of them they honestly had an unnecessary amount of sisters and amongst all that long hair and lipstick, sometimes they forgot who belonged where. Like when Louis would take Waliyha and Safaa, along with his own sisters, swimming every Wednesday because their brother was a wimp and couldn't swim. And when Zayn would pop round in the evenings to cook dinner for Louis and the girls on the days their mum was working late, because he knew just how hopeless Louis was in the kitchen and just how much the girls enjoyed his _daal chawal_. They were pretty much one big, female dominated family. Oh, and how could he forget the fact that he'd come out to Doniya before anyone else because she was just so mature and clever and he knew she'd understand. And she had. She'd wiped his tears and been absolutely amazing, literally always there for him. She had also promised to hand out black eyes if anyone ever gave him trouble so honestly, while he adored the lot of them, Doniya was undoubtedly his absolute favourite.

So it's quite a bit to take in that the same Doniya, who had the pink streaks and big hugs when Zayn and him were still goofy little kids, is about to start a family of her own. It's also a lot thinking about how he's grown up too but he still doesn't think he understands quite what it means to be content. Maybe he's being ungrateful. After all his job's great and he's got a lovely flat in central London, but there's something missing. He doesn't know what but the flowers remind him of home and that's where he was most content. He wants a home for himself perhaps.

Finally he presses the little blue flower; Baby blue-eyes according to Harry, between the pages of the journal and puts it away. There's only so much emotion he can deal with without giving himself an aneurysm.

-

As planned, Zayn had taken him out shopping to some Asian market place down in East Ham where Louis scarfed down _jalebis_ while Zayn tried to get him fitted for clothes for the wedding. The tailors and shop owners had grumbled about his sticky fingers until Zayn had forcefully taken away his snack and wiped his hands for him with a wet wipe. It reminded him of Eid at the Maliks' when there'd be an abundance of delicious food, too many greedy little hands and shits that burned his ass the next morning. Nothing has ever managed to taste quite as good as Eid or Christmas at home.

Louis still has the box of sweets in his hand and syrup all over his face when Zayn drops him off outside Harry's, well Anne's shop. There's a boy watering the hanging baskets outside who wiggles his eyebrows rather worryingly at Louis as he walks by. Louis hopes he can't smell the sugar overload or the undeniable crush from this far away.

There's a few more people inside today, probably because it's midday, but there aren't any curls in sight and Louis wonders for a moment if maybe Anne's back. There are two little girls fussing over to the side though, and Louis spots and lanky figure crouched down, picking out daisies for them.

"Oh hello!"

No wonder Louis couldn't spot his curls anywhere. Today hair is pulled back into a pretty little bun, with a pale pink rose sitting neatly in it. It's as if Harry has been put in his life specifically to kill Louis.

"Hi um..." The girls seem quite content with their colourful bouquet and scuttle off while he stands there struggling with his words.

"Oh yeah the plant! Hold on a moment let me deal with these two first."

At the till the girls hand him a ten quid note. It's clear they don't really understand how money works yet, but they're terribly eager to buy flowers for someone. Harry deals with them with such care and attention and Louis can't help but feel a pang in his chest. He's sure his Daisy and Phoebe would also love this shop and would probably love Harry too.

After the girls have run off with their paper wrapped bouquet, Harry comes out of the back room with a small plastic pot and Louis is a bit confused. He's aware that he knows next to nothing about plants but he's sure this isn't a cutting.

"I know I said I'd get a cutting but I thought that might be a bit tricky because, well you didn't seem like a very enthusiastic gardener," Harry laughs.

"Yeah but I couldn't take your plant," Louis tells him.

"Well I want you to have it. Anyway I just took one of the roots from my one, it's no big deal," he says, putting the pot into Louis' free hand.

He goes to pay for the plant when Harry stops him.

"This isn't from the shop and my plant's still okay so nothing." Louis insists however so Harry relents. "Okay then, give me one of those and we're even," he laughs, pointing at the box of jalebis in Louis' other hand. Louis' confused for a moment before the same voice from before interrupts them once again.

"Alright there Harry." It's the blonde from outside and he's still looking at Louis weirdly as he comes up and puts an arm around Harry. "You going on your break anytime soon or are you just gonna stand here asking for food?"

Amidst all his confusion and failure to function properly around the boy, Louis finally sees his chance to talk to Harry.

"You could eat and tell me how to look after my plant on your break? If you don't mind that is." Maybe he should've just shut up and gone home.

"Yeah Harry why don't you go do that," he says, pulling Harry's apron off and shoving him towards the door.

They head to the park around the corner, where Harry usually eats his lunch. It's quite nice, not very many noisy kids and plenty of green space, just the type Louis would like to frequent if he had you know, someone to have a kick about or share a picnic with. Harry settles on a bench underneath a large oak tree and pulls out a flask of green tea and homemade cookies. He offers them to Louis whilst picking out a jalebi for himself but Louis has already had way too much sugar.

"Basically it's quite a low maintenance plant so all you really need to do is put it in a fully or partially sunny spot and water it regularly but not too much and it needs shelter from drying wind. When it grows it can spread quite wide so you might want to transfer it into a bigger pot at some point. You can always come and ask me or mum if you ever need help."

It seems simple enough and Louis thanks Harry and makes a note of the instructions on his phone. He really wants to be able to look after the plant successfully and not just because it reminds him of meeting Harry with his pretty, flower adorned curls.

"So what is this called and why is it so delicious?" Harry asks between munches and at least Louis can finally confirm that this boy is in fact real. He talks with his mouth full and it's just as endearing as it is disgusting.

"They're called jalebis and they're just as unhealthy as they are delicious. Deep fried and soaked in syrup," he explains with a grimace. "Right now though I don't care. My friend's sister is getting married and she's like a sister to me too so I'm celebrating."

Harry slows down on the munching a little, probably to savour the taste and not eat as much.

"Why are all the good things so bad for us?" he groans but still grabs himself another. "Do you have any siblings of your own then?"

Louis is grateful that at least one of them seems capable of making conversation because all he can manage to do is answer questions and then watch Harry eat.

"Yeah, six. Five sisters, and a brother. None are of marriageable age though. And all three of my friend's sisters are like my own as well because we all grew up together. That's why her getting married is quite a big deal you know."

He's getting nervous and probably oversharing and the poor boy's going to walk away any minute.

"Wow." He hasn't walked off just yet so that's good. "I only have one older sister and just that's too much to handle sometimes. Wow. I hope you don't mind me asking you stuff it's just your reason for coming by yesterday was well, different and it just got me a little curious is all."

He continues chewing rather happily and Louis just wants to explain all his feelings to the boy, even though he doesn't even understand most of them himself.

"I used to live with my best mate Zayn, the one whose sister's getting married, but then he moved in with his boyfriend and it was the best thing to ever happen to me. Honestly there's only so much kinky sex you can overhear before you turn homicidal. But it's weird now. I'm not used to living somewhere so quiet and my ears ring and the place looks so empty and blank. And well like I said before, my mum knows your mum and she suggested I get myself a few flowers or something like she has back home. I don't know..." he trails off uncertainly. He's definitely overshared and embarrassed himself now. Great.

"I get it, I think," Harry says, instead of leaving as Louis had expected. "When I first moved out for uni I was so excited but then a few weeks in and the food didn't taste as great, even though I was the one cooking at home as well. And everything felt kind of cold without my mum's too strong perfume everywhere, or Gemma constantly chatting shit. Then Niall moved in and it's okay now but it's not really _okay_ you know. It's not really home," he pauses for a second. "Wow that was deep," he laughs and Louis can't help but to laugh a little in return. Harry had understood, no in fact, he'd related to Louis' problem and yet he'd still managed to laugh it off and make Louis smile.

Just then they're interrupted by the shrill, generic ringtone of Harry's phone. Harry answers and whoever's on the other side is speaking so loudly Louis can pretty much make out everything they're saying.

"Hate to interrupt your little lunch date," it's the Irish boy from the shop Louis realises. He's not sure but Harry's cheeks may have gained a little colour. "But I have to go so get your little ass back here right now!" The beginnings of obnoxious laughter can be heard from the other side before Harry abruptly ends the call.

"I have to go back to the shop I'm afraid," he tells Louis, picking up his flask. "Pop by whenever. The bouquet should last around a week if you follow the instructions but you know, whenever you want..."

He's walking away backwards with an unnecessarily large grin on his face and Louis realises he's wearing one just as big.

-

A week, he thinks, looking at the flowers. They look as fresh as they did when he first got them two days ago and he feels terribly conflicted about this. He loves them, wants them to stay fresh forever so that he stays distracted from his perpetual state of discontent by their warm colours and sweet smell. However he also needs a reason to go see Harry again as soon as possible, without looking too desperate. He hopes Harry wants to see him too.

The plant has been doing quite well. It's out on his balcony, enjoying the sun and he's been watering it regularly but in small amounts. There might even be a few new leaves growing but he doesn't want to jinx the poor thing by saying too much. He has to say though, the plants and Harry have been occupying his mind quite a lot recently and his journal is proof of that. A light pink rose signifies 'grace' and 'sweetness' apparently and he'd made a note of the words, even underlining them a few times, along with a rough little drawing of the rose he'd seen tucked into Harry's hair.

As well as everything else, work's been okay, the weather's been surprisingly good for London and Fizzy made him a wind chime that's tinkling away in the balcony. It's all making him feel quite a bit lighter and with a cup of tea he sits in the balcony, enjoying the sweet music of the chimes and writing about pretty smiles and eyes and petals.

-

Mum drops the twins and Safaa off at his place on the weekend to go wedding shopping with Trisha, while the older girls look after the babies. Phoebe and Daisy are as curious and energetic as ever, running from room to room and spreading their obnoxious laughter throughout the flat. It's really rather lovely. Safaa on the other hand is obviously going through her annoying little brat phase, doing everything she knows she shouldn't be and seeming more and more like Zayn by the second. It's around noon when they all start squealing about their upcoming ballet recital and incomplete costumes that Louis' kind of had enough.

He decides to take them down to the park, hoping they’ll be able to blow off some steam. Safaa of course is too cool to hold hands but the twins hold his hands as they skip along down the road, singing something nonsensical. He’d never admit it to them but Louis even misses all these irritating little habits of theirs. He misses his annoying little babies.

He’s a little lost in his thoughts so he doesn’t register the bell ringing until the girls start pulling him to the side and a bike comes to a skidding halt right behind the four of them.

“Ouch! Shit!” comes a shout from the bush to their side and it seems that although he’d managed to stop the bike before it hit any of them, the poor cyclist had lost balance and fallen into the bush at the side of the road.

“Oooh you killed someone Louis, I’m telling your mum!” laughs Safaa. He truly cannot wait until Safaa is old enough for him to be able to fight her.

They all crowd around the bush worriedly as Louis asks the guy if he’s okay.

“Okay, I think. Ouch,” he groans, sitting up in the bush and fuck. Of course it's Harry, with bits of bush sticking out of his hair, rubbing his sore arm.

"Louis?" He asks and the pained look on the boy's face is just too guilt inducing.

"I'm really really sorry Harry. Are you really hurt? Should we take you to the hospital? I'm so sorry," he rambles, helping Harry up. The girls straighten his bike and Louis is ready to call an ambulance when Harry starts laughing.

"It's okay. I didn't crash into you or the kids though did I?" He looks around at them, seeming genuinely worried, as if Louis and the kids weren't the reason for him literally tumbling head first into a bush.

"No, no we're okay. Are you sure you're not hurt though? Should we walk you to the shop? Or home? I'm so sorry Harry." He's a mess but he feels terrible and needs to make sure he hasn't fatally wounded Harry.

"It's fine Louis. Anyway I was just on my way to the park. No need to worry, as long as the kids are okay." He ruffles the closest kid's head. It's Safaa and she looks like she's in heaven.

"We were going to the park too!" Daisy exclaims and the pair of them run off into the trees.

"Don't you want to go play with the girls?" he asks Safaa, who looks at him with disdain.

"No, I'm not a baby _Lewis_. Who's your friend?" She twirls her hair and smiles up at Harry in a disgustingly sweet manner. Louis might have to put away his decency for a moment and fight her even before she's of an acceptable age.

"Harry this is Safaa, my friend's _baby_ sister, who's going to go play with the girls now unless she wants to have to dance at Doniya's wedding."

Trisha had mentioned how much her youngest hated the thought of having to dance in public, much like her brother. Doniya and Waliyha on the other hand were the complete opposite and looked forward to any opportunity they got to dance. Safaa scowls at him before stomping off and Harry laughs.

"What? She was being annoying. You have leaves in you hair."

Harry laughs some more and tries to shake his hair out but there's still bits from the bush sticking out and Louis has to reach over and pull them out. They sit down on one of the benches near where the girls are running around and Louis picks out the last few bits from Harry's curls.

"I really am very very sorry. I just wanted to bring the girls here to tire them out a bit, not kill you." There's a small pile of leaves in his lap and what he hopes is a look of remorse on his face.

"Shut up Louis, I'm still alive. So, are you on sibling duty today?" He asks, pulling out a pot of fruit salad from his side bag.

"Yeah our mums have gone wedding shopping. Left me to deal with these demons," he picks out a piece of kiwi from the offered fruit bowl and continues, "Didn't realise you worked on weekends as well."

"Only delivering the local orders. I've got way too much coursework to run the place all week. Niall works weekends though so if you need anything you can always go to him. Lucky bastard does music at City so he's got loads more free time than me and mum actually pays him to work here." He's taken the leaves from Louis' lap and is twisting them around each other. Louis is finding it hard to concentrate on anything apart from his long, pale fingers fiddling with the leaves.

"So what are you doing at uni then?" he manages to ask. Phoebe comes and places herself right between them and Harry starts putting the leaves on her head.

"Last year of law here at UCL. Basically I'm almost dead."

Fucking hell, Louis thinks.

"I'm sure the financial security, once you've got a job, will be worth the years of toiling away over here." Surely such a perfect person wouldn't be interested in someone like Louis, with his homesickness and unnecessary emotions.

"You can't have done too bad yourself, living round here." He's managed to make a small leafy crown of sorts out of the leaves and Phoebe seems delighted, skipping off to show the other two.

Harry's right. Living in central London really isn't a joke but Zayn and him had managed to achieve quite a bit since first coming down to London for uni. Zayn had met Liam and they'd sung together and Louis had somehow ended up writing for and managing the pair of them, all while they were both still doing their, now rather useless, English Lit degrees. They'd all done quite well for themselves and Louis explains it all to Harry.

"Shit man. So your friend Zayn is _The Zayn Malik_. Shit and you wrote on their album?" The girls run back over to them and plop themselves on and around the bench. "And this is Zayn Malik's sister?" he points at Safaa who beams at the attention and Louis kicks her, gently but enough to warn.

"Anyway," she interrupts, "we're hungry and I'm sure Harry has somewhere better to be so can we go?"

Harry laughs and Louis reluctantly gets up.

"Guess I have to go feed the gremlins now," he tells Harry, which earns him a few protesting 'heeey's and a not so gentle kick in the shin from Safaa.

Harry waves them all goodbye and the girls thank him for the crown and the bits of fruit they'd all managed to swindle.

"You think I can't tell that you fancy him Louis?" Safaa asks, as they walk back towards his apartment.

"You think I won't tell Uncle Yasser what a little devil you've been," he threatens her, chasing the lot of them up the rest of the road.

-

Liam's still not back from his work trip to America so Zayn's taken to occupying his time by providing Louis with a daily commentary on the wedding preparations and all the ensuing family drama. Like the distant aunt who'd made a few snide remarks about Zayn and his 'lifestyle choices' at the last family gathering. Or that one Malik cousin who Louis had kind of dated during their younger days but who'd turned out to be an absolute dick head. Of course Doniya's dealt with the lot of them by excluding them from the celebrations altogether. There was also the situation with getting Zayn's grandma, with her terrible fear of flying, to fly in from Pakistan in time for the mehndi but his uncles have promised to see to that. The girls are also causing a bit of a fuss, with their outfits for both their ballet performance and the wedding still somewhat incomplete, causing even more stress for their mothers.

"I've looked literally everywhere but I can only find flower crowns. No one wants to wear bloody leaves on their heads, only these stupid little gremlins with their stupid mythologically accurate ballet. I'm going to give Safaa up for adoption the next time she mentions your flower boy and his stupid _stupid_ leaf crowns." Zayn practically growls. Liam's absence and the wedding stress is obviously really getting to the poor kid.

"Wait, _my_ flower boy what? How many crowns do they want?"

He has to wonder why fate is so obviously on his side here, giving him yet another genuine excuse to see Harry again.

-

It's been a little over a week since that first visit and to be honest the flowers are all still quite in tact. His Baby blue-eyes is doing well and going back for another bouquet would be way too transparent. However, asking Harry if he would be willing to make a few leafy crowns for his little sisters' ballet recital seems like a great way to get to see the boy.

"Back again are we?" The blonde, who he now knows is Niall, says, wiggling his eyebrows in a slightly different manner this time.

"Yeah I guess," Louis laughs. He's not sure what exactly the different eyebrow movements are meant to mean but he blushes in embarrassment anyway, knowing Niall's probably caught on to the blatant crush Louis has on his friend.

"Harry's popped out for a bit, so you'll have to make do with me I'm afraid. Is there anything I can help you with?" he asks, wrapping up a bouquet of roses for another customer as he speaks. "Unless of course it involves waxing poetic about warm flowers and blue eyes cos in that case I'm sure you can wait a few minutes."

Louis is even more confused than before and wants to ask him what the fuck he's going on about but the man asks Niall something and he'd rather not disrupt business. Instead he dawdles around for a bit in front of the various different coloured lilies.

"I didn't know black flowers existed..." he mumbles to himself, looking at the dark petaled flowers labelled 'Landini lily'.

"They don't dumbass, they're a deep purpley-red." Niall cackles from behind the counter and Louis sticks his middle finger up at him. He's rather obnoxious but in an endearing way, Louis has to admit.

"Are you harassing customers again Niall?"

Louis nearly gives himself whiplash at the sound of Harry's deep voice, turning to see him come in through the back. It doesn't look like he's wearing anything in his hair today and Louis' about to feel a bit disappointed when he notices that his hair is partially braided across his head, with small sprigs of lilac heather tucked into the braid. Louis can physically feel his heart stuttering at the sight.

"Hi Louis, ignore Niall. Anything you need help with?" he asks, rolling his fluffy lilac sweater paws up and retying his apron around his back.

"My sisters sent me to ask if you sold or could make more leafy crowns like the one you did for Pheebs the other day? The girls need them for their ballet recital but most places only sell flower crowns and they're playing elves and the fairies are gonna wear the flowers, so they need something a bit different."

Now that he's actually asked, it does seem like asking for a bit too much to be honest.

"It wasn't anything special though, just a few leaves twisted together," Harry says, a bit confused.

"Yeah well try explaining that to them. Apparently they've been pestering Zayn about you and the crown ever since the weekend so he hates you now, just so you know."

There's an immediate look of devastation on Harry's face and Louis can't help but laugh.

"Are we talking about Zayn Malik because in that case Harry's wanked to the voice of someone who hates him," Niall butts in, and immediately has to duck under the counter to avoid getting hit by the roll of brown paper Harry swings at him.

"Please ignore Niall, he's a fucking liar." The blush on his cheeks suggests otherwise however and Louis wants to put the poor boy out of his misery.

"I wouldn't blame you if you had mate. Everyone's wanked to the thought of Zayn, I probably would've too if I hadn't seen that boy pick his nose and wipe it under the table in year three." It's one of the many childhood incidents that have managed to render him completely unaffected by the boy's beauty.

Niall starts howling with laughter and Harry turns even pinker.

"So. Crowns. How many do you need?" he asks, sputtering.

-

The girls need only eight crowns and Louis had thought it'd be a quick process that would involve plucking leaves from a bush and a bit of string maybe. Harry has very different ideas however as he's gone and cut eight equal lengths of very realistic looking artificial ivy and is wrapping it around the circlets of wire.

"You shouldn't waste your time on this Harry. Just stick a few leaves together like you did the other day. They'll be happy either way." And he knows they truly would be, after all that's what they'd asked Harry to make in the first place.

"Yeah but I won't be happy knowing I could've done a better job for the girls." He's got a bit of wire clamped between his teeth as he deals with the ivy and Louis can't help but sigh. This boy is honestly too much.

"Wouldn't real ivy be easier to handle though? I can see you struggling there," he points out, as Harry awkwardly twists the plastic vine and instructs Louis to clip the wire with the pliers as he doesn't have enough free hands himself.

"Real ivy would die eventually and this way there's also no chance of any mid-performance allergic reactions either. There." He puts down the last crown and observes his work for a moment. "Niall do we have any dried baby's breath in stock?"

Louis' never been so confused in his life, not even when he had to take Lottie bra shopping that one time.

"Yeah I think so. Let me go check." He disappears into the back room for a moment, while Harry adjusts the circumference of the crowns. "How much do you need?" he asks, dropping a packet of something white and airy looking on the counter next to Harry.

"A pack should be enough."

As he opens the packaging, Louis sees that it's a bundle of some sort of fluffy white plant, something that resembles clouds or even mist.

"It's not literally the breath of a baby," Harry jokes. "Just called that because of how it looks. I thought I'd put a bit in the crowns, make them a little more mystical you know."

"The girls are demons. They don't deserve you." Especially not that Safaa but he leaves that unsaid.

"I'm sure they're not that bad," Harry says, breaking off a small branch and twining it into the ivy. It's slightly glittery, which makes it look like dewy mist, creeping out from between the leaves and he knows the girls will absolutely love it.

"Oh believe me they are. You know, the twins always get ill together and once they both simultaneously projectile vomited on me. Great kids really." Honestly, it's been nearly a decade since but he's still traumatised as hell.

Harry looks up slightly worried, "It wasn't pea soup vomit was it?"

"No no," Louis laughs. "I mean they're terrible but not possessed-terrible. No need to call a priest."

"Well then, if they're not possessed then you should stop complaining. Niall's nephew is almost definitely some sort of supernatural creature but we still love him."

"No we don't Harry," Niall interrupts. "Only you do. The kid tried to kill us last time we went round but you still wanted to bring him back with us. That's just plain stupidity."

"I just like kids okay." Harry's blushing a little and it's so so adorable. The boy loves kids just as much as Louis, if not more, but he's unfortunately been a bit deprived in the younger sibling department.

"You can have mine," he tells Harry and then realises how wrong that came out. "Siblings I mean. You can have my siblings. All of them. Lottie and Fizzy aren't really kids anymore though but the rest yeah um..."

Niall starts cackling and Louis wants to stab him with Harry's pliers.

Harry however doesn't seem to have noticed his awkwardness and says, "I'd love to but I don't think your mum would appreciate that."

He's right. She'd cried for almost an entire week when he'd first moved out for uni, even though he was probably the worst of her lot.

"They'd definitely appreciate it though. The twins love you already and I'm sure you'd be able to charm Lotts and Fizz and the babies, like you charmed Safaa." Like you charmed me, he thinks.

"You should bring them here some time. I'd love to meet them all. In fact bring Zayn's sisters as well. They can all get their bouquets and stuff for the wedding from here if they want."

"Meeting the family already?" Niall asks from where he's dealing with a couple of customers. "Or is this just you being sly and trying to get to Zayn?"

Harry looks absolutely done with Niall and Louis laughs, "Good business skills I'd say, you should be proud Niall."

"I'd be proud if he'd thought that far. Not business minded at all this one. All he can do is memorise flower names and laws."

"Heeey I'm not that bad!" Harry calls out, throwing a small roll of wire at Niall.

"Well I'll let Zayn's family know," Louis says as Niall throws the roll back. Harry's busy working on the crowns though and Louis has to lean over and catch it before it hits Harry right in the face. He's close enough for him to smell the earthy, herb-like smell of the heather in Harry's hair and if it were up to him, that'd be the last smell he ever smelt.

"Their traditions are a bit different though so I don't know how much use you'll be Niall." He remembers when Zayn's uncle Ali got married and it had been all garlands of white and sweet, sweet _mithai_.

"What about you though? Can we be of any use to you? Any more bouquets needed?" Niall smirks at him and Louis' seriously considering whether or not to throw the pliers at his face.

"No thanks. Doubt you'll be able to match the first bouquet Niall, it was too good. Anyway it's hardly even wilted." As much as he'd like to spend even more time with Harry in his pretty little shop, he can't lie and pretend he's in need of a replacement bouquet just yet.

"You could get something else for your balcony if you want," Harry suggests, finishing up with the last of the crowns.

"Make him a perennial basket so that he leaves us the fuck alone."

"You leave us the fuck alone Niall." As Niall walks away Harry continues, "It's not a bad idea though. You can pick whatever flowers you like and I can put a basket together."

"Could you maybe pick for me? The bouquet was so lovely, I don't trust myself to choose anything even half as good." The warm sunset-like arrangement sitting on his coffee table was proof enough that Harry knew exactly what Louis needed, when Louis himself didn't even know.

"Sure, um let's see." He disappears for a moment to get a light wicker hanging basket from the back and begins filling it up with soil.

Harry works away on the basket, carefully uprooting and planting flowers here and there, while singing along to the shop's obscure music, under his breath. From what he can hear, the boy has a rather pleasant voice and when a song that Louis recognises begins to play, he can't help but to join in. They're both whisper-singing along to some hipsterish song Louis' heard a few times at work when Niall passes by, kicking Harry in the side where he's crouched in front of the basket.

"This is sickening. Harry, Louis, go home. I've had enough."

"What?" Harry looks up at Niall, irritated. Louis is just confused.

"Take the plants and go serenade each other on Louis' balcony, you're honestly making me sick." He doesn't stop to see the blush darken on both their cheeks.

"Ignore him please. He's been playing up ever since Barbara from the coffee shop across the road told him she has a girlfriend." He gets up and brushes his hands off on his apron. "Anyway, I think it's done. What do you think?"

There's a mixture of all sorts of colours arranged in the basket, from absolute white to bright red, but it seems to have a sort of flow to it. Like the colours all blend into each other, no flower too garish, no bright colour that isn't balanced out with pale tones and ample green leaves.

"You could be the next Alan Titchmarsh to be honest." It's the first thing that comes to mind, seeing Harry's green fingers at work.

"I see myself as more of a Charlie Dimmock really. You know tits out, hair everywhere, brings all the boys to the garden etcetera," he grins cheekily. "Should I ring everything up then?"

"Yes please um," Louis' still struggling with the mental imagery and if the smirk on his face is anything to go by, Harry knows the effect he's had.

He manages to pay for everything and, much to the relief of Niall, is about to leave, when he realises something.

"Wait, how do you actually hang a hanging basket?" It's a stupid question, he knows, but it's better to ask now than to go home and have to put the basket on the floor because he doesn't know what else to do with it.

"Oh shit, I forgot the wall mounting bracket," Harry says, running into the back room. He comes out with a patterned metal hook-like thing that Louis' seen on pub walls, holding their rather extravagant basket arrangements in place.

"Am I gonna have to put this up myself because someone on the ground floor is definitely going to die if I do." He's never been one for DIY or anything even remotely handy for that matter.

"I put up all the ones outside our shop so I guess I could put it up for you. If you want that is..."

Truly Louis wants nothing more than to spend even more time with Harry and that too in the comfort of his own flat. He doesn't want to expect too much from him though, especially when he doesn't even know if Harry wants to spend anymore time with him.

"Thanks but I don't want to waste any more of your time. I'm sure I can pressurise Liam into doing it for me once he gets back from his trip." That'll probably take a few more weeks but he'll wait.

"It won't be a waste of time don't worry." Upon Louis' reluctance he continues, "You know what, if you're so adamant then we'll have something to eat. That way it'll be dinner with a bit of basket-hanging on the side."

Louis' heart skips a beat because _dinner_ but he doubts Harry means it like that so he shuts up and agrees. Closing up duty is Harry's today so he can't leave for a while yet but he says he should be able to pop by tomorrow afternoon. Louis writes down his address on a bit of paper for him and leaves the shop with a slight wobble in his pulse, as well as a bag full of ivy crowns and a hanging basket.

-

His flat isn't very messy really, in fact it hardly even looks inhabited. The only things that do make it seem lived in are probably the flowers in the living room, his unmade bed and the socks carelessly strewn across the floor. He makes sure to pick them all up and stuff them in a drawer before Harry comes round. Thankfully due to the flowers, the place smells a lot less cardboardy than it had a little while ago and he thinks he'll leave it at that. However that evening, as he passes by a little Japanese shop that smells very much like his mum's herbal teas, he just has to buy a little bottle of jasmine oil and a candle-like diffuser for it that leaves his flat smelling like well, home.

He remembers that Harry wanted food and maybe he's not as hopeless at cooking as he once was, but he really can't trust himself to not accidentally poison the boy with his shitty mash and even shittier recipe following skills. In all honesty, he hasn't personally used his kitchen for anything more than making himself breakfast in the mornings and microwaving a few ready-meals, so he hopes Harry doesn't expect too much of him.

Pizza he decides, everybody like pizza. Then again, the few times he'd seen Harry eating it'd been all healthy, homemade stuff so he's not so sure. He figures he'll just have to ask Harry when he arrives and see if he can get one of the restaurants on the main road to whip up and bring them whatever Harry wants.

Zayn comes by in the morning and tries to let himself in, saying something about needing to be rescued from a waxing salon the girls are insisting on taking him to and waving a little baggie at him through the door. Louis would like to be sober when Harry comes round though and anyway Zayn's a big boy, Louis' sure he can handle himself so he pats him on the back and closes the door on him.

He's got a few cushions out on the balcony and he goes and sits down there, observing all his plants and enjoying the light breeze and sun that London is miraculously offering today, while he waits for Harry. He doesn't know when but he ends up drifting off and is awoken by the shrill sound of his doorbell.

"Fuck, fuck shit!" He jumps up and runs to the door, trying to fix his ruffled hair and rub the puffiness out of his eyes as he goes. He's sure he looks a complete mess but if he puts off opening the door any longer, Harry might leave so he swallows his pride and opens the door.

"Hi, sorry um, I fell asleep," he explains, wiping over his face again with the sleeve of his stupidly oversized jumper. Harry's standing there looking a bit flustered and Louis really hopes it's nothing to do with how disheveled and sleepy he must look right now. "Come in um, oh what's this?" He moves aside to let Harry through, with his wooden bucket full of plants.

"It's for you. Or well, for your flat. Wow," he says looking around. "You never told me your place was so lovely."

"It's alright I guess. Bland as hell but alright. You really shouldn't have gotten me anything though. You're already doing so much for me." He hadn't even managed to arrange lunch for them and here Harry was, doing everything and more for him.

"I couldn't come empty handed could I? Where should I put this? My poor arms might actually fall off," he groans. Louis leads him through to the balcony but he doesn't fail to notice how Harry really _isn't_ struggling with the rather heavy looking planter. In fact his arms are looking just as good, if not better, than they had on that first day when he'd dropped off Mrs. P's plant for her. He also notices a few of Harry's well, bolder tattoos. Like the massive rose near his elbow. How fitting. Or the pair of birds underneath his collarbones, revealed by his generously unbuttoned floral print shirt. He's also wearing a daisy chain around his neck and Louis' struggling, really really struggling.

"I see the whole Charlie Dimmock thing now," he says and Harry laughs, flicking his hair.

"So, where do you want the basket?"

Louis lets him know and then goes to fetch a hammer. He'll have to thank Liam when he gets back for getting him a toolkit, despite him insisting that he'd never have any use for it.

"You know, I wouldn't call the place bland at all. Feels a lot like home to be honest," he tells Louis whilst hammering the bracket into the wall.

"Well yeah I guess it's a lot better now, thanks to you and your flowers."

He sits himself back down on the cushions and watches Harry work. The sun is shining through the boy's hair and there's just the sweet, slightly dizzying scent of the flowers and the even sweeter sounds of the wind chime, all around them. How unnecessarily pleasant and domestic, he thinks.

The basket's up and hanging in no time and Louis' slightly embarrassed over not being able to do something that Harry made seem so easy.

"Thanks man."

Harry drops down on the cushions next to him, nudging him in the side. "Shut up Louis. What are we having for lunch?"

"Will pizza be okay?"

-

Turns out pizza is more than okay, as Harry fights Louis for slices and chews away contently. He decides to ask him about the different flowers around them and Harry eagerly explains. Apparently he's gone for a traditional English garden feel with the basket, using blue Lobelias, small peach coloured Begonia flowers, a handful of colourful Sweet peas and Petunias and plenty of 'Silver Falls', that trails over the edges of the basket, creating a lovely cascading effect.

"Like something our mums might put together for their gardens." Louis couldn't agree more. It reminds him ever so much of his mum's choice of flowers and the fact that Harry had figured that's what Louis needed makes him want to cry and kiss the boy.

The bucket planter on the other hand, Harry describes as a little more obscure, with its peach Geraniums, Lilies and Azaleas in a creamy white colour, blue Hosta leaves and the obscurest of all, right in the middle are the 'Black Mamba' Petunias.

"Don't let Niall tell you black flowers don't exist. He doesn't know shit."

Louis truly can't believe the amount of thought and effort that Harry has put into the whole thing. They've finished their pizzas and are lying back on the cushions, enjoying the sun as well as each other's company in the wonderful silence. Harry turns on his side to face Louis and smiles at him so _so_ fondly that Louis' finally sure they're on the same wavelength right now.

"Let me take you out to dinner," he asks, with his heart hammering away in his throat.

"Was this not dinner, or well lunch, enough for you?" Harry replies with a grin. It's clear he knows what Louis really meant and he seems okay enough with the suggestion to joke around. Louis' heart starts to slowly settle down.

"You know what I mean dick head." He reaches over and ruffles Harry's hair, having had enough of his cheek.

"Heeey!" Harry protests but doesn't make any move to escape from under Louis' hand.

Louis lightly runs his hand through Harry's hair, "So, what will it be?"

Just then Harry's phone rings, making them both jump a little. Harry excuses himself with a bit of reluctance and answers the call. It's Niall and he needs Harry back immediately for whatever reason. Honestly fuck Niall.

"I have to go I'm really sorry," he says, taking Louis' phone and saving his number in it. "But yeah sure, text me." He gets up to leave but then seems to rethink it and crouches back down for a moment and pecks Louis on the cheek and with that he's off, taking most of Louis' heart with him.

-

His mum comes round with the girls the next day to get their crowns. The twins are absolutely overjoyed and tell him to convey their thanks and love to Harry.

"Oh Anne's Harry?" his mum asks.

"Yeah, he did all the flower arrangements and everything for me as well," he tells her. He takes them out into the balcony to show them and his mum looks thrilled.

"Oh how lovely," she exclaims. "I'll have to thank Anne then, the place looks lovely. Reminds me a bit of our garden doesn't it?"

She turns to Lottie to see what she has to say but Lottie seems to have other ideas.

"Is he cute?"

No point in lying, Louis thinks and nods yes, just as their mum's about to tell Lottie off for being a nosy little shit.

"Oh well isn't that nice. Definitely need to meet lovely young Harry now. You should take him out for dinner some time. I'm sure Anne would love that too."

Again, Louis sees no point in lying and tells them that yeah, they have in fact made plans to do so.

"Splendid," his mum smiles, while Lottie and Fizzy smirk at him.

The twins on the other hand are a bit confused and ask, "Is flower Harry your boyfriend now?"

"No, shut up. Mum!" he complains. His mother merely laughs at him and promises to pop by again soon, "Hopefully when this Harry is around, so that I can find out who exactly is responsible for putting such a lovely smile on my boy's face."

-

Louis tries to convince Harry that dinner at a restaurant is a good idea and even suggests a great local place he's eaten at with Zayn and Liam before. Admittedly the place is a little posher than your average restaurant but Harry doesn't need to know that. However Harry is adamant that none of that will be necessary and that a picnic seems like a much better idea. Louis really doesn't know what to do with the boy.

The following weekend Harry sends him the address of some park and Louis decides to take a taxi, seeing as he's carrying a massive bag full of food and he's not very familiar with the route. He'd explained to Harry that cooking wasn't well, one of his strong suits, but he could definitely find them a good few snacks that Harry had probably never eaten before. Harry on the other hand was apparently great in the kitchen and had promised to cover the actual cooking side of things.

Arriving at the address, Louis sees that it's not so much a park as it is a massive manor with acres of decorative gardens around it. It's beautiful and what's even more beautiful is the sight of Harry, in his too-big blue flannel shirt and a crown of matching flowers in his hair, cycling up to him on his even flowerier bike.

"Hi!" he calls, getting off his bike with an actual picnic basket in hand.

"I feel quite inadequate with my carrier bag and taxi ride now."

"At least you tried," Harry laughs. "Anyway as long as the food tastes good and you're here."

"I am and it does hopefully." He reaches up to play with one of Harry's strays curl. "You and your bloody flowers."

"This was actually kind of for you. Goes with your eyes," he says, repeating his words from when they first met. "But I can get rid of it if you want."

He goes to take it off but Louis stops him. "No it's lovely, thank you. I'd rather you wear it though, you look great. I don't know what I'd do if you stopped wearing flowers."

This time he's sure of the blush on Harry's cheeks and it makes his heart swell and his own cheeks redden to a similar shade.

"Come on now, can't stand here all day," Harry says, leading Louis in.

They stroll through the park, past a vast lake and colourful bushes and trees, onto a pathway leading off the rose garden. The roses don't stop though, climbing up the arched frame above them and creating a rosy pink roof of sorts through which the sunlight streams in. It's honestly picture perfect and Louis is a little lost for words.

"Wow," is all he can manage and Harry just laughs.

"Enough standing around Louis, I want to eat." He lays out a bloody picnic blanket and gets out a few containers. "Initially I thought let me just make sandwiches and fruit or something because I didn't want to scare you away with my rabbit food but then Niall said I was being boring so I told him to go shops for me. Dick head came back with squid, like actual fucking squid. I nearly died. So yeah, rabbit food it is."

"This is actually really tasty." Honestly the spicy grain and chicken salad tastes great.

He opens up the boxes of jalebis and mithai he'd brought and Harry groans in delight. The two of them sit there munching away on the various foods, with Louis offering what little knowledge he has of the South Asian treats and Harry looking like he's in heaven every time he takes a bite.

They talk about family and growing up and share those delightful childhood memories that don't hurt to think of anymore. Now it's just heart warming to remember. Harry tells him about his sister and mum and their house back in Holmes Chapel, where he'd been that goofy little kid at the bakery with the wild curls and squeaky voice.

"Squeaky voice? Don't lie to me Harry, I know what a squeaky voice sounds like." He's not so much self-conscious as he is wistful about what could've been if maybe puberty hadn't failed him.

"No honestly," Harry insists. "It was squeaky and annoying and then it broke twice."

They talk and eat and then talk some more. Louis tries some of Harry's herbal tea and it tastes like shit but it's so Harry and he tells him as much.

"Are you calling me shit?" Harry asks, jokingly offended.

"No, well yeah you are but the whole flowers and herbs and bird tattoos, whilst studying law. It's really quite something isn't it."

"And what about you with your secret celebrity life, too many siblings and even more love? I've seen how your eyes light up when they're around or when you talk about them. Even Safaa," he laughs and Louis has to begrudgingly admit that yeah, maybe even Safaa.

"I miss them," he admits finally. "It was just too big a change I think, going from a house full of kids to an even noisier house with Zayn and all our mates and music. It's gotten better though, you know with all the flowers and everything, it doesn't feel so empty anymore." I don't feel so empty anymore, he thinks.

It's nice. Really really nice, talking about all these stupid thoughts and feelings that had gotten him all worked up before and getting to hear whatever's on Harry's mind. Even nicer though, is the expectant feeling of hope and warmth he gets when he's around Harry and he really hopes Harry feels at least slightly the same.

"You know, I feel like I could sit here and talk about everything and nothing with you for a long long time," Harry tells him, quelling any doubts or fears Louis might've had. "With a regular supply of food of course."

"Of course," he agrees. After all, he does have an entire _ladoo_ in his mouth as he speaks.

-

Eventually the sun starts disappearing and it gets a little too chilly for Harry and his flimsy, unbuttoned shirt so they reluctantly pack up and begin making their way out.

"So Harold," Harry pretends to glare at him seeing as they've been over this already. His name's Harry, _not_ Harold. Louis continues regardless, "This was fun. Don't ever talk to me again though."

"Fuck off Mr. Visits-the-florist-every-other-day-for-no-particular-reason," Harry says, shoving him away lightly. "You like me too much."

Louis blushes a little but that doesn't stop him from pulling Harry towards himself with a hand around his waist.

"That I do," he says, pressing his lips against Harry's.

It's not rushed or frantic at all. They stand there, sharing sweet kisses and laughing into each other's mouths for a while, as if they've been doing this forever. His fingers seem to get lost in Harry's hair just as he's managed to get lost in Harry and it's clear neither of them want to let go.

-

They talk all week, sharing even the most mundane and unimportant things and just enjoying each other's voices and company. Harry sends him silly snaps of himself, submerged in a crate of artificial flowers, that leave Louis breathless. Louis in turn, at Harry's request, shares snippets from his journal that may eventually turn into lyrics. Harry seems enthralled, which is a relief as Harry might just be the occasional subject of some of these words. He also asks Harry for the names of the various blue flowers he'd been wearing in his hair the other day and makes a list; cornflowers, forget-me-nots, blue marguerite daisies and pansies. Maybe he'll buy some of them one day, as a sort of memory.

He's had to go to a few meetings and it's been a little busier than usual so the whole mehndi thing kind of slips from his mind until Zayn books a ticket to Pakistan to bring his grandma over in time for the occasion. It reminds him that he still has to buy Doniya's wedding present which should probably include a bouquet of her favourite white roses. He doesn't really need an excuse to see Harry anymore but he still appreciates it.

The weather's dulled down a bit but it's still okay enough to go out without a coat so he's not too disappointed. He wonders what Harry might be wearing in his hair today, not that it really matters seeing as that boy could wear grass and still look great. However Louis' become undeniably fond of the flowers, maybe just as much as he's become fond of the boy. He turns the corner towards the shop and there's Harry's curly head of hair with no flowers just-

Oh.

There's a tall, leggy blonde with her hand in his hair and her mouth on his.

Okay.

He turns around and walks back to his apartment as fast as his legs can take him. There's probably plenty of other florists around here. In fact who said flowers were even necessary, surely Doniya would want presents that would _actually last_. Fuck.

He gets home and Zayn's already there, sitting in his living room and so are the fucking flowers. He wants to fling them all out of his window and scream but Zayn is here and he can't be a mess in front of Zayn. Zayn with his long-term relationship and sorted life. Zayn with his kind eyes that'll fill with worry if he breaks down in front of him.

"Going already?" he asks instead, trying to put aside his own feelings and pointing towards Zayn's packed suitcase.

And sometimes Louis wishes they weren't so close. He would've suffered significantly less trauma in his life if they had been merely acquaintances. Like the time he'd had the honour of overhearing the words 'daddy' and 'hit me' resonating from Zayn and Liam's bedroom when they'd thought they were alone. Or when Zayn had just gotten back from a trip to Pakistan and had literally shat himself in front of Louis, in their rose bush.  

If they weren't so close, Zayn probably wouldn't be able to read him like a bloody open book.

"Come here," he says, dropping his bag and opening his arms. He's obviously seen right through Louis' façade.

Louis' probably as embarrassed and angry and sad as physically possible right now but more than anything he's grateful for Zayn and his comforting embrace.

"I'm okay," he tries to tell Zayn but he's dry sobbing in his arms and even if he weren't, he couldn't hide anything from Zayn.

"When Liam gets back I'm going to get him to punch this dick head's fucking teeth in. I promise you."

It's a nice thought.

-

Once Zayn's gone it's all empty again. Empty and silent and pointless. Louis wants to kick himself for feeling anything.

-

His phone is off, the balcony doors are closed and he just doesn't care anymore. His route to the station might change slightly but really it's more convenient this way, seeing as he doesn't take any side roads or pass by any parks or shops. Zayn's reached Pakistan safely and Liam's finally back and everything's great. Honestly.

His journal is sitting untouched next to the vase in the living room. There's a small scattering of dead petals on and around it and Louis laughs bitterly. He can't quite bring himself to throw them out just yet though.

Liam forces him out of bed one morning to go buy presents for Doniya and Louis wants to hit but also hug him. Liam buys her traditional Asian jewellery and clothes and Louis decides to go for the same. Fuck flowers, she doesn't even like them that much anyway.

-

His landline starts ringing aggressively at 2 in the morning and it's a good thing he hasn't been able to fall asleep or he probably would've killed whoever's disturbing him at such an obscene time.

"I'm really sorry Louis but I didn't know who else to call." It's Doniya and he sits up immediately at the sound of her slightly distressed voice.

"What's wrong Dee?"

"The bloody decorators just cancelled on us. Dad's looking everywhere but no one's able to do anything on such short notice, not even florists. The mehndi's in two days Louis, what's a mehndi without marigolds and jasmines everywhere? What should I do?" She sounds close to tears and Louis just has to do something.

Marigolds. Fuck.

"Send me a description of what you need and I'll see what I can do love. Don't worry yeah."

-

He turns on his phone and ignores all the missed calls and unopened messages. There are quite a few. Instead he sends Harry the picture Doniya just sent him and explains the situation, asking him if he could help. There are no greetings or kisses or endearments used, Louis can't swallow his pride completely. He doesn't expect a reply anytime soon but it comes almost immediately and Louis' a little surprised. Harry has identified the flowers needed from the picture; French and Mexican marigolds as well as Arabian jasmine apparently. He also tells Louis that he's managed to place a special bulk order that should arrive by tomorrow at the latest. Louis still can't believe this boy and his heart starts to flutter just thinking about him. But then he remembers and it sinks all over again so Louis replies with a simple 'thank you' and let's Doniya know that he's got everything sorted, before going to sleep.

-

It's not until the next afternoon, when there's only a day left till the mehndi, that the flowers arrive. Harry usually has a break around this time which is convenient. He'd rather not face anyone right now, he just wants to get the stuff for Doniya and go home.

As expected, only Niall's in the shop when he gets there, looking cheery as ever as he deals with a few customers. His smile seems to falter when he spots Louis coming in which makes no sense. What does he have to frown about?

"Harry's not in."

Yeah I know, that's why I came now, he thinks. "Is my stuff here though?"

"In the back yeah. There's quite a few boxes so you can go check it all and then I'll ring it up for you. Or you can wait if you want..." he suggests a little hesitantly.

"No it's okay, I'll just fetch it and then go thanks." He wonders what Niall knows and thinks.

Niall points out his boxes and Louis checks that everything's there and pays. There's quite a few boxes and he can't quite see past the stack of them in his arms so he bumps into something on his way out of the shop.

"Steady on. Oh hey Louis!" Shit, absolutely shit. He just had to bump into Harry of all people.

"Here let me help," Harry says, taking half of the boxes from Louis.

"I'm just going down the road to Zayn's to set everything up, I'll manage," he tries to tell Harry, despite his arms crying out in relief at having shared out half the weight.

"If you say so. Which way is it?"

Louis can't be bothered to argue any further and it'll probably be quicker and safer if he lets Harry help, so he leads the way to Zayn and Liam's. Liam's currently staying with the Malik family, helping out with the preparations over there while their son's away and Louis' got the keys to the place to get everything sorted here.

It's not so much an apartment as it is a massive open plan _space_ , with an entire wall of a window overlooking the city. Everything's been cleared away and a carved, wooden ornamental swing, brought all the way from Pakistan, is placed in the middle of the room for the bride-to-be. Louis can see the awe on Harry's face as he lets them both in.

"Now I know why they're doing the mehndi at home. This place is better than any wedding hall or hotel I've ever seen." Harry can barely keep his mouth closed and Louis would laugh if it didn't hurt just to look at him.

"You must not have ever been to an Asian wedding then." He's seen the halls they've booked for the reception and _walima_. South Asian weddings really aren't a joke.

Instead of dropping the boxes and leaving, Harry starts unpacking the almost endless chains of marigolds and jasmine.

"Um what are you doing?" Louis asks.

"Putting the flowers up of course."

Harry looks at him as if he's being stupid and Louis doesn't get it. Why is he like this? Why is he simultaneously so wonderful and such a piece of shit? Louis decides to put all his confusion aside and accept Harry's help. He knows he couldn't possibly be done in time if he were to work all alone.

Harry's even more prepared for the job than him apparently. He's brought along a bag full of tools, wire and plant ties, as well as little jars with handles for some reason.

"What are those for?" He's honestly too confused to even feel angry anymore.

"In the picture you showed me there were loads of little tea lights everywhere but that might be a bit dangerous with all the kids so," he pops a tea light into one jar and a marigold flower into another explaining, "I thought having a few of these around might look nice. We could even hang them from the beams and stuff."

Louis absolutely hates him.

By the end of the night the place is practically covered in shades of orange, yellow and white. The banisters and handrail of the massive staircase are almost entirely wrapped in flowers, as are the pillars of the building and of course the swing. The rest of the chains of flowers have been strung across the walls and the beams, where the pretty little jars with the tea lights and flowers also hang. Harry's also placed some around the floor that Louis has to avoid as he clears up the empty boxes and bags.

He throws it all out and then slumps down against a wall, absolutely exhausted. He doesn't even know what time it is but he knows it's very late or rather, very early in the next morning and he just wants to sleep.

Harry plops down next to him and there's an abundance of shreds of marigold petals caught in his hair. Without thinking, he reaches over to pull them out but then stops himself last minute and scowls. Harry seems to notice.

"What the fuck is your problem Louis?" Harry asks angrily and Louis feels positively livid.

"What the fuck do you think?" He raises an eyebrow at the boy expectantly but Harry doesn't seem to have any sort of explanation or answer for him. "Well then, the job's done so you can leave now. Don't worry, I'll pay for all the extras."

He brushes a few stray petals off his jeans and starts to get up when Harry takes hold of his wrist and pulls him back down.

"And to think I really fucking liked you," he says, causing a bitter laugh to escape Louis' lips. "Fuck you," and with that he kisses Louis.

Frantic and rough, Louis can't help but kiss back. It feels like the very blood in his veins is on fire and he doesn't know whether it's out of anger or something else. Whatever it is, it's just too much and Louis has to pull away.

"Really fucking liked me yeah, well so did I but what about that girl then? Did you really fucking like her as well?"

All the frustration seems to disappear from Harry's face and is replaced by a confused frown.

"Which girl?" he asks and Louis doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Oh, so there was more than one was there? Unlucky me, I only got to see the tall blonde one you were snogging outside your shop. Fucking asshole."

There's a moment of silence in which Harry seems to process everything and then he bursts out laughing. Louis feels close to tears.

"That was my mate Cara. She works in the coffee shop opposite us and some guy wouldn't leave her alone so she had to pretend she had a boyfriend," he explains.

Louis can't help but feel sceptical.

"Here look it was this girl right?" Harry gets out his phone and shows Louis a picture of her cuddling another girl. "That's her with her girlfriend, the one who rejected Niall. She's really gay Louis, possibly even gayer than me so it's really not like that," he reassures.

"Oh."

"Yeah you dick head," Harry huffs, pulling Louis towards him once again. This time their lips meet smiling.

-

" _The tall blonde one you were snogging_ ," Harry imitates in an unnecessarily high pitched voice, between sweet, apologetic kisses. "Such a drama queen honestly. Cara's not even that tall, she's like five foot eight maybe?" He pauses for a second and then smirks, "Well that is kinda tall for you I guess..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Louis exclaims indignantly. "I'm five foot nine thank you very much."

Harry laughs uncontrollably at the claim and then kisses Louis some more.

-


End file.
